Wednesday, November 17, 2010


...smoking things. 'Nough said, I guess. I won't say I don't still enjoy the Djarum Black once in a great while, but you know---

Friday, May 21, 2010


I love to smoke things. I love things that smoke.

Why? For several reasons. Allow me to share those with you now.

There is more to smoking something than just the draw of smoke into your lungs. There is a vibe about it. An aura of calmness that it creates. There is a whole little world that is created when you light your smokes.

It starts with preparing the pack. Some people pack their smokes by banging on the end of the carton...I've never been a fan of this. But with what I enjoy smoking (see below) there's no need for this. The cloves and tobacco are already firmly in place.

So you lift the 'lid' of the pack and see your 12 or 24 little friends waiting for you. The filters are like little hands waving up and down hoping that you'll pick them. Then you pick one. Some people carefully dig into the pack to preserve the sanctity of the cigarette. I like to dig my nail into the filter and yank it out.

This is where it starts to get really good. Lighter in hand, you are ready to head to the first drag. You flick the bic and it makes that wonderful noise. I don't have the right combination of letters to relay that sound but I think you can hear it on your own. The ridged wheels of the lighter slide by each other so fast with the slip of your thumb and than shazam! You've got fire.

Now it's time for that first drag. Lighter to the end of your smoke, you inhale and puff as the clove, tobacco, additives or whatever start to turn red and sparkle. The first puff's exhale runs over the end of the cigarette and around your thumb on the lighter. Success.

Next you're ready to enjoy what you really came here for. The flavor, the relax, the drag, the smell (if you've got something good). The flavor depends on your brand of choice. For me (again, see below) that means the sweet, smooth taste of cloves, cardamom and cinnamon. At this point, everything you know about what smoking does to you that's
not good flies out the door like a quick exhale.

No, at this point you don't care about the warning label. You care about the feeling of the swarm of gray filling up your insides with tasty goodness. You continue to take your drags and feel the relaxing calm of the process. Again, you ignore any evidence that smoking makes you jittery. It's the process that cools you down.

And then there's the smell. If you've got the right stuff (uhm, see below) you get a wonderful smell with your smoke. It drifts around your noise as you let it softly fly out of your mouth. You inhale a second time, this time for the smell, not the taste.

After awhile you've reached the end of your time with your smokes. For me this happens before I reach the end of the clove. About 2/3rds of the way down, I'm content and ready to extinguish. I take a few last puffs to say goodnight (this usually happens at night) and then squish the remains into a firesafe receptacle. Well, sometimes you try plastic because you like to watch things burn, but that's a segue into another post. And of course there's also the choo-choo train you can make with the plastic cover of your pack. If you don't know how to do that, email me and I'll fill you in.

I should make the disclaimer that I can only handle 3-4 cloves a week. It's just all I got. I don't think it makes me less of a man. Or woman.

For another story on another day, I also like things that smoke on their own. Incense is a nice example. I can't explain what it is but it makes me happy. And for now that will suffice.

So what do I prefer to smoke?

Good night and sweet smokes.

Monday, April 19, 2010

Go As The Water Goes

Oh has been a rainy, anxiety ridden day. Neither of which I expected when I got up this morning. Before this Monday has finished I may have tried several medicinal approaches, legal and otherwise, to calm down.

I have no reason to be anxious (though I know from experience that one does not ever need a reason). Yet I've started to think about things that make me anxious. It's almost like the anxiety breeds reasons for it to exist when there was originally nothing there.

One example that comes to mind is The Evil One. Those of you who know me know that I don't believe in the devil or pure evil, and if you know me really well, you know I'm talking about a person who zapped 8 years of my life in my early to mid-20s. Her reign in my life is by far over and the memories and effects from that experience are no longer part of my every day being.

At the same time, I've been pushed by a few people lately--and by myself as well--to write more. "Like the old days." I've been pondering things to write about and I keep coming back to the reign of The Evil One. Writing for me has always taken form as a lengthy email or a play. So my mind has been turning over ideas of how to put those 8 years into a play. It's an amazing story full of many layers and a real case study in psychosis. But can I go there? After not having had that part of my life on my mind in so long, can I reach into that pocket of my memory purse and pull out the old receipts to share with a piece of paper...and one day maybe others?

I don't know the answer yet, but I do know something is calling to me. I will do my best to listen and as always, go as the water goes.

Friday, April 9, 2010

Like Nike Says

I don't know why I'm nervous, but I'm about to finally send the link to this blog to you, my potentially loyal readers.

"Just do it."

Leave me comments and become a "follower" so that I feel good about myself.

Now I have a date with Hulu and my bed.

Happy Reading,

Thursday, April 8, 2010

I'll Eat A Carrot Tomorrow

It's 12:38a.m. and I just got out of bed, put on shorts, went to the corner store and bought ice cream.

More posts on our new Eating Clean mission to come...

Old, Old Writing--Two Cats

(this, in my 18yr old mind, was meant
to be a country song of sorts. If you
want the full effect, call me and I'll
sing it to you. No, I won't.)
Two Cats

Gramma used to say
"Honey, don't you
worry 'bout things-

Just keep on grazing
in life's fields
and sleepin' on clean sheets."

Two cats in the front yard
A light in my room
Slow music playing
And not a thing to do.

Move out when I'm
eighteen and learn
some'n new.

Get laid on a
weeknight and
live off of cheese.

Two cats in the front yard
A light in my room
Slow music playing
And not a thing to do.

I'm married for the money
friends are nice, to
and parents still give me food.

Two kids are grown
so we're gonna retire
and not worry 'bout things.

Two cats in the front yard
A light in my room
Slow music playing
And not a thing to do.

I really miss Gramma
with the big white hair.
The way she talked

'Bout life made
ya think she'd been
there before.

Two cats in the front yard
A light in my room
Slow music playing
And not a thing to do.

Old, Old Writing--Fish Sticks

Fish Sticks

I'll never forget that day
when we met in the
frozen foods section, and
Baby, you gave me a chill.

Is it just coincidence, sweetheart
that we were both
gonna buy those
crusty fish sticks?

I guess not baby...
Cuz now we rent an
apartment together
and share our macaroni.

But I'm keeping the cheese, babe.
Yeah, I'm keeping the cheese.
Have all the noodles you want, babe,
Cuz I'm keeping the cheese.

Of course this started a fight,
and of course it brought up
those damn
crusty fish sticks.

So now I'm alone...
with my cheese
thinking of you
and our meals together.

But I went shopping today
with the last of my rent money
and met a new babe
in the hardware accessories aisle.

That's aisle 8, babe.

Old, Old Writing--At Home On A Santa Fe Night

At Home On Santa Fe Night

Feeling like the only ones in the world
we walked in cool breeze
rain coming
mountains beginning to
turn dark
like a phase change of the moon
from bright and full
to misty
rainbows forming
clouds deepening in blue
our ears are teased by a mild
distant thunder
breeze swifts by
picks up our mood
filling our noses with the wet
of an early night
we walk on
wind runs around
like a spooked pack of wolves
finally the rain swims
through the air
lands on warm bodies
clouds are moving with us
above us
and I feel good
at home on a Santa Fe night.

Old, Old Writing--Johnny Appleseed

Johnny Appleseed
1995 (I was 18 yrs old)

I saw no apple trees
I didn't make it there

Perhaps I should have tried harder
To find them somewhere.

Apples are a better fruit
Than some I've had before.

There's something sweet in every bite
Even at the core.

But even so...
I saw no apple trees.

I thought it would be easier
Simple as a breeze.

Now, where I'm going,
I really can not say.

But perhaps I'll find oranges,
Somewhere along the way.

Personally Vanilla a.k.a. Reviler Revolution

I guess now that I started the blog I should consider writing in it...on it...and maybe even sharing it. Hmm.

I was chatting with a friend on facebook last night and sent her a link. When I did it asked me to type in two random words to verify whatever. I decided songs or stories or posts should be written with titles taken from those two words.

The first example--Personally Vanilla.

Then there's:

Motion Cockerel
Ratner That
Adjusted Below
In Sloshes
The Numerals
Mopping Prime
Outtake Drawing
Mr Numbs
Dent Wearily

(I am not making this up. Try for

Ghandi Organics
Economic Misdoings
About Plumpest
Gershwin Today
Pride Million
Who Disaster
Forehead Doodled
District Snowshoe

Okay, I'm obsessing. But from now on, if I'm at a loss for words, I have this list and many others from which to choose titles.

I leave you tonight, with my favorite:

Reviler Revolution


She Loves Me, Yeah, yeah, yeah.

Jesus Loves Gays

Wednesday, April 7, 2010

Makes Me Miss Austin...Momentarily.

Worry Less

she said worry less

then spoke of bricks on her chest

the depression of pressure

creates pressured depression

she said worry less

and I had to confess

she was right.

she said worry less

I thought “this is the best”

and I took her hand

and I gave her mine

and we walked

and we talked

and she said worry less

so I did.

Old Blogs--April 2008 Part Two

Smiling on the Treadmill

I went to the gym today. First time since Sunday. I got on the treadmill and ran. I listened to "Take Me Home Country Road" as done by Israel Kamakawiwo'ole. And then, out of no where, a giant grin popped up on my face. It was like gravity flipped and the corners of my mouth are now stuck in a silly, school girl grin.

Then I left the gym because I felt like I was gonna hurl from the bad combination of adrenaline and "ohmigod she's so cute" butterflies-in-the-stomach.

Old Blogs--April 2008

Tears on the Treadmill

I went to workout last night after coming back from Tucson with Mom. I got on the treadmill and didn't even bother with my usual 4 or 5 minute walk to warm up. I just started running. And I kept running and running and running. I had my ipod shuffle playing "Downtown" and something else that I don't remember at the moment but it was perfect work out music. I was zoned out, singing almost out loud and staring at the buttons...speed, incline, laps, heart rate...and then I looked up and surveyed the gym.

Had I not been in a public place I would have started crying...and crying, and crying. I thought working out created a positive adrenaline rush. Apparently it can create all kinds of changes in your body and your mind.

I kept running, somewhat scared of the tears right behind my eyes and then I got angry. Really angry. Start-a-brawl-angry. Angry at tears, moods, bright lights and loudness. Then I couldn't handle the running anymore so I lifted weights. Lots of weights. Depending on the muscle, there were some 20lbs, 60lbs and then the all important show-off leg press of 165lbs.

After watching weights go up and down and up and down I started to feel better. I felt stronger. I was sweating and felt like I had done something awesome. And I had. But then I realized that feeling stronger didn't change the water works or the anger. They're still in me and not too far under the surface. I'm certain they will be there for awhile.

So, as Richard, Rocky, Mom, Toni and a small portion of my own brain tell me...I'll go as the water goes and not resist what I feel. I just wish the wet of the water wasn't made of so many tears.

Old Blogs--April 4, 2008


It's 1:30 a.m. I'm awake because it's quiet.

I got new hearing aids today. They are amazing. I stood folding laundry at the dryer this evening and heard behind me a slow ticking noise. I froze in attempt to isolate the sound and figure out what was broken or misleading my ears. I turned around and realized that I could hear the second hand of the clock on the wall.

I said out loud, "Oh my god. It's the second hand of the clock on the wall."

There are sounds everywhere that I've never heard before. There are sounds I've heard but never with such clarity. There is depth in music and there is clattering in typing. Much of what I hear is annoying. I imagine it's because my brain doesn't know what to do with the new information yet. My internal wiring does not yet match the wiring of my hardware. Sounds are everywhere...and I don't know how to explain how profoundly fascinating that is to me.

But I'm awake because it's quiet. I could go to sleep. I could take a few pills that would knock me out if I decided I wanted to sleep. But I don't because it's quiet. Phones aren't ringing, kids aren't talking, cars aren't's just me and the sound of the second hand on the clock.

I'm sad because tomorrow I will wake up and there will be noise again. And it will not be the noise of new hearing aids. It will be the noise of life that is too much for me to hold right now. But I will soon be safe in the metaphorical arms of my warmest support, on a noisy plane to our quiet weekend vacation.

Until then, I'm going to rest in the quiet and not fret about the noise. It will always be there.

It's 1:38. I'm awake because it's quiet.

...and she returns.

Now that I'm not a teacher and don't plan on ever being one again, I can go back to my blog. And say whatever the fuck I want to.

That's right. Fuck.

I miss writing but can't seem to make it a habit. So I'm gonna try this venue for awhile and see what happens. Hope you enjoy. If you don't...well, that's okay too.

Fuckingly yours,